misery has an upside but the company's not good
en hurt won't come out in the wash, it's gonna come out in the hood
yellow tape is like a torch which leads all eyes to stare
what exactly happened here...who what when and where
we'd like to think it's not the norm while cops patrole the streets
we hope and pray somehow, some way, the crime rate will decrease
So where's your little brother, well today's his day in court
Kelvin likes to ride his bike, but peddles drugs for sport
He never knew his father and hates his mother's men
the gang he's in are more like kin, blood homies to the end
Seems Kelvin was elected to shoot a brotha dead
whose crime it seems was wearing jeans not blue, but crimson red.
The boy, he couldn't do it, said, "I ain't nobody's fool"
"I'll sell the drugs", he told these thugs, "but rather shoot some pool".
Granny's on the front porch settin' out to sweep
on a pathway to disaster, the bullet whizzes past her
and cuts through wood and plaster... to find the child in his sleep.
Kelvin's little cousin, he couldn't tell the time
he barely knew his numbers but could rap a nursery rhyme
They buried little Winston and Gran's not doin' good
his swingset is abandoned and it's quiet in the hood.
No one really plans to live a lowly life of crime
to drop out of society and soon be facin' time
those who lack a vision, who have yet to find their gift
need a hero and direction, not a handout, but a lift.
So go ahead and spraypaint walls, decorate abandoned halls
breakdance, shoot your basketballs, skateboard parks and crowded malls
Encourage all their hopes and dreams, lead them out of evil schemes
'cause life is not what it all seems when there's quiet in the hood.